My Smile Will Go On
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: In an effort to confine the inmates to Arkham Asylum, Bruce Wayne provides the funds for them to make their own version of the movie "Titanic." No one is prepared for the final result. Thanks to blackcat9517 for the suggestion, and for making the poster - enjoy! :-)
1. Chapter 1

**My Smile Will Go On**

"It's very kind of you to take an interest in the inmates, Mr. Wayne," said Dr. Joan Leland, head of Arkham Asylum, as she and Bruce Wayne sat in her office. "We really appreciate your incredibly generous donations more than we can ever express."

"Anything I can do to help, Dr. Leland," said Bruce, nodding. "A huge amount of crime in Gotham is down to the agency of these people. If they can be helped, cured, or otherwise occupied, it's as good for Gotham as it is for them."

"And for me," agreed Dr. Leland. "One less headache. Although that new medication we gave the Joker seems to be doing more harm than good."

"Medication?" repeated Bruce.

"Yes, we started him on a course of caffeine, adrenaline, and sugar," replied Dr. Leland. "In the hopes of overloading his already hyperactive system. It's frankly pretty miraculous how much energy he can take, although it does manifest itself abnormally in his behavior."

Bruce stared at her. "I admit, I'm not sure how much more abnormal the Joker's behavior can be."

Dr. Leland sighed, gesturing to her computer screen and bringing up the security cameras for the Rec Room. The Joker was perched on the arm of the sofa, talking a mile a minute at the other inmates, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"…I mean, it's weird, right? Right? Seriously, right? I mean, elastic in socks! Has the whole world gone mad? Whatever happened to garters? Garters are amazing! But it's all elastic this, elastic that now! Plastic society, that's what we've got! Speaking of plastic, do you know they make action figures outta us? We get any royalties for that, anyone know? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Probably not. And why not? I'll tell you why not! Because society is intent on taking away our rights! Our rights to our own images! Madness! People call me crazy, but I ain't making plastic figures outta other people and selling 'em for a profit! Money, that's what everything's about! Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned…what was I talking about? Oh yeah, socks!"

"Mr. J…I think we oughta go let you lie down now…" began Harley Quinn, carefully.

"Nope, nah, no, feel wide awake, Harl!" exclaimed Joker. "Wide, wide awake! Y'know what rhymes with awake? Cake! And boy, I sure could go for some right now! Chocolate cake, or devil's food cake, or…who wants to bake a cake? C'mon, it'll be fun! Roll it, and pat it, and mark it with a B, and put it in the oven for Batsy and me! Who wants to play patty cake with me?" he said, holding up his hands. "Tetchy, I know you like those kiddie games! And by kiddie games, I mean playtime with kids, and I don't mean real playtime, I mean playtime as a euphemism for something else! Harley and me use that euphemism all the time, not that there's anything wrong with it as long as you don't have a kiddie fetish, which I don't, I just like younger women. Not your type of younger women – Harley's over the age of consent in all countries, but I guess you could always move to Holland. I hear they have relaxed ages of consent. Europeans are sick and wrong, no offense…"

"Harley, make him stop!" cried Jervis Tetch.

"I dunno how!" retorted Harley. "It's this stupid medication! I've been begging the doctors to stop giving it to him – it just wires him! He's been up all night making pages and pages of notes for new schemes!"

"Yeah, who wants to hear some?" asked Joker, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing several sheets of paper, written haphazardly. "Exploding Sheep. Guinea Pig Army. Looking forward to that one. Spoon Gun. Egg of Doom. Fridge Pants. Batman's Greatest Boner…wait a minute, did I mean boner?" he asked, puzzled. "Guys, what's a word meaning huge mistake...boner, right? Right, yeah. Batman's Greatest Boner..."

"Ok, I think we've heard enough of that," said Bruce hastily. Dr. Leland turned off the screen as Bruce sat back, thinking.

"I'm wondering, Dr. Leland, if my donations might be better spent on something other than patient treatments," he said at last.

"Security?" said Dr. Leland, hopefully. "We really need security improvements…"

"I think tighter security measures would only be seen as a challenge to them to break them," said Bruce. "But there must be a way to keep them inside. Maybe if they wanted to stay inside, for some reason…"

He trailed off. "They're all very…theatrical, aren't they?" he asked. "What if I gave them the funds to make a movie?"

"A movie?" repeated Dr. Leland, puzzled.

"Yeah," said Bruce, slowly. "Something they could dedicate all their substantial energy to. Something that would take a really long time to make, and be very complicated. A really long movie…"

Bruce thought back to the longest films his dates had ever dragged him to. There had been several. But one in particular stood out in his mind, mostly because his then date had criticized him afterwards for not being in floods of tears, like she was. She had accused him of being insensitive, unlike the guy in the movie, who was clearly every woman's ideal man. Bruce had rather unkindly retorted that he wasn't so sensitive now that he was dead, and they had broken up shortly afterward. Their parting words were a mutual wish that the other share the fate of the man in the movie, which was especially awkward since the Joker killed her about a week later.

"_Titanic_," he said, firmly. "Let's let them make _Titanic._"

Dr. Leland stared at him. "How are we gonna…I mean, we can't construct a ship in here…"

"We can hire some special effects guys to take care of that," interrupted Bruce. "You don't even need sets to make movies anymore – it's all on computers. Just give them free reign to rewrite it how they want, cast it how they want, and make it how they want, within reason. It should ideally occupy them for a pretty long time, leaving the city with only the ordinary criminals to deal with, which are bad enough on their own."

Dr. Leland nodded slowly. "I can't ask you to fund an entire movie though, Mr. Wayne…"

"Hey, it's only a couple million," said Bruce, shrugging and standing up. "I'll make that back by next week."

"Well…thank you very much," said Dr. Leland, standing up. "I guess I'd better tell the patients the good news…"

She glanced at the security camera screen, where Joker was now cartwheeling around the Rec Room, loudly singing and occasionally grabbing fellow inmates to dance with: "_I love to laugh, ha ha ha ha, loud and long and clear! I love to laugh, ha ha ha ha, it's getting worse every year! The more I laugh, ha ha ha ha, the more I fill with glee! And the more the glee, he he he he, the more I'm a merrier me!_"

"…or I might wait a bit," she said, sitting down again.

"At least that's closer to normal, anyway," sighed Bruce.

"I wasn't aware you knew what normal Joker was like, Mr. Wayne," said Dr. Leland, surprised. "I didn't know that you had many dealings with him."

"Er…no, I don't," said Bruce, hastily. "I just…uh…oh wow, is that the time? I have to go," he said, glancing at the clock. "Urgent meeting – I'll call you later to discuss the details of the film, Dr. Leland. Goodbye."

Dr. Leland stared after him in confusion, and then sighed. "The arrogance of the rich and famous, thinking they know everything about everyone. Who does he think he is, Batman?"


	2. Chapter 2

"I've never heard of this movie," said Jonathan Crane, studying the script in confusion.

"Really? You lived under a rock for the past twenty years, Johnny?" asked Two-Face. "It was all the rage in the 90's. I took a couple of my girlfriends to it to get some brownie points. It wasn't worth it."

"Yes, well, some of us don't have women to suffer through terrible movies for," retorted Crane. "Unfortunately," he sighed.

"I'm not sure how historically accurate we can make this," commented Jervis Tetch, studying the script. "We have limited resources locked up in here. The costuming is going to be a particular problem."

"I'm sure no one's gonna care," retorted Two-Face. "I mean, it's not even gonna get a real release, is it? It's obviously just a pointless ploy by the doctors to get us to wanna stay in this dump. It ain't gonna work on me," he said, resolutely.

The door to the Rec Room opened. "Harvey, Mr. J would like to offer you the part of Rose's fiance," said Harley Quinn.

Two-Face looked at her, and then reached into his pocket, pulling out his coin. He flipped it, and it landed good side up. "I'm in," he said, nodding.

"I still don't know why J is in charge of this project," growled Poison Ivy as Harley nodded and disappeared back into the Rec Room.

"You wanna fight him for it?" asked Two-Face.

"No," retorted Ivy. "Actually, I'm trying to be very nice to him so he'll give me the part of Rose. Don't you think I'd make a great Rose?"

"Sure, why not?" muttered Two-Face. "Although I guess it depends on who they cast as Jack, and if you have any chemistry with him."

Ivy grinned. "Harvey, it's me! I make my own chemistry with men," she said, holding up her lipstick.

"I hope I get Jack," spoke up Edward Nygma. "I don't think they're going to find anyone better in here. I'm about the right age for him. My only competition was Harvey, but now that he's out of the picture, I've got a pretty good feeling about it," he said, smugly.

Two-Face and Ivy shared a look. "Still want Rose?" he asked.

Ivy sighed. "I'll do a lot of things to be a star," she muttered. "Maybe even Nygma."

"Ok, c'mon in, Red!" called Harley, opening the door again and smiling at Ivy. "We're ready for your audition."

Ivy entered the Rec Room and sat down in front of the table. Joker sat on the other side, several papers in front of him. "You ok, J?" asked Ivy, noticing him rubbing his temples.

"Headache," he muttered. "Coming down from a sugar high is the most painful thing ever. Maybe that's why the Bat's always so miserable. Too much Bat-candy."

He forced a smile. "Never mind. So, Pammie, what role are you auditioning for?"

"Well, I think I'd really suit the character of Rose," replied Ivy.

"Really? Young, innocent, delicate woman who's never been in love before?" said Joker, raising an eyebrow. "Completely inexperienced sexually. You really think you could pull that off?"

"I'm a good actress," retorted Ivy.

"You'd have to be the greatest actress ever to make me believe that," agreed Joker, nodding. "What do you think, Harley?"

"Well, call me biased, Mr. J, but I don't think she suits that role as much as I do," said Harley.

"You?" repeated Ivy. "C'mon, Harley, don't be ridiculous!"

"It ain't ridiculous!" snapped Harley.

"Ok, first of all, Kate Winslet in _Titanic_ was a redhead," retorted Ivy. "Second of all, she was curvy. And third of all, her name's Rose, which is a floral name like mine. I'm clearly much better suited to the role than you are."

"Aw, but…gee, Red, we've already cast Jack," said Harley, gesturing at Joker.

Ivy stared at him. "But you're directing…"

"I'm a Renaissance Man, Pammie!" chuckled Joker. "Just like Leonardo or Raphael or Michelangelo or…who was the fourth Ninja Turtle, Harley?" he asked, turning to her.

"Jack's meant to be an attractive young man," snapped Ivy. "You can't pull off young! Or attractive, for that matter."

"I'm gonna be wearing flesh-colored makeup, so I won't look all clowny," retorted Joker. "People can't suspend their disbelief that much to buy a guy with a clown face being allowed on the Titanic. But I'm sure they can suspend their disbelief at him being a little older than he was in the previous, inferior version of the story."

"Plus he's the director, so what he says goes," said Harley, smugly. "And if you wanna be Rose, ya gotta pose nude while Mr. J draws you, and then simulate a sex scene with him."

Ivy looked over at Joker, who winked at her and mouthed a kiss. "I'm out," she said, standing up and storming off.

"She's gonna make a great mother for you, Harl!" chuckled Joker, writing down Ivy's name next to the name of Rose's mother. "We can give her some ageing makeup so the audience will buy that, not that she needs it. She's getting a little long in the tooth if you ask me."

"Are we gonna keep the character names, puddin'?" asked Harley, studying the script. "I dunno why we couldn't rename Rose Harley."

"Yeah, I guess we can take a little creative license," agreed Joker. "We'll keep Jack for me, though. I mean, wouldn't wanna confuse the folks into thinking there's ever been another Joker. I'm one of a kind!" he chuckled.

"You sure are, puddin'," she purred, kissing him.

"Who have we got left to audition?" he asked, looking down at the list.

"Eddie Nygma and Johnny Crane," she said.

"Don't bother with Nygma – I already got his role down," giggled Joker, writing something down. "Call Johnny in, though."

Harley obeyed, and Crane entered a moment later. "Have a seat, Johnny," said Joker. "What role are you auditioning for?"

"Oh, whatever's left, really," he sighed. "None of these roles appeals to me in particular. They're not very relatable."

"Yeah? Then why do you wanna be a part of this movie?" asked Joker. "Why doncha bust outta here?"

"Well, I find the film-making process rather fascinating," admitted Crane. "And I'm all out of schemes to terrorize Gotham for the moment anyway."

Joker grinned. "Well, Johnny, I'm not sure if you know, but Harley's gonna be our star," he said, patting Harley on the head.

"Congratulations, Harley," said Crane sincerely, smiling at her. "I'm sure you'll be splendid."

"Oh yeah, she'll be able to pull it off, no problemo," said Joker, nodding. "Attractive gal like her. I mean, you'd tap that, wouldn't you, Johnny?"

Crane stared at him. "What does that even mean?"

Joker snorted. "And they call me old. You've read the script, huh?"

"I…flipped through it," admitted Crane.

"Then you'll know there's a scene where Harley gets sketched nude by her male costar," said Joker. "Followed by a scene where they sneak into a car and have sex. Now normally this is simulated sex, but I'm an authentic kinda director, so I'm gonna insist that Harley really has sex with her male costar. She'll do that for her art, won't you, pooh?" he asked, turning to her.

"You betcha, Mr. J!" said Harley, cheerfully.

"Now the reason I called you in here is to tell you the good news about this male costar," continued Joker. "I think you're gonna be really happy about this. I figure he's gotta be an older, intelligent, sweet, sophisticated, sensitive kinda guy, and there's only one guy in here who I think fits that description. So I've decided that Harley's male costar is...not you. It's me. But you can be the guy who builds the boat wrong, how about that?" he asked, writing his name down.

Crane had been gripping the arms of the chair tightly in rising excitement, and then realized he had been trolled by the Joker. Which he really should have seen coming. He sighed heavily, standing up and heading for the door. "Fine," he snapped. "That's fine."

Joker giggled, gazing at the completed cast list. "You know what, Harley?" he laughed. "I think this is gonna be a blast!"


	3. Chapter 3

"This is gonna be a disaster," muttered Two-Face, looking around at the cameras and blue-screens that decorated the Rec Room.

"Well, how appropriate for a movie about the Titanic!" chuckled Joker. "But frankly, I have to disagree with you, Harv. I think it's gonna win an Oscar. And if it doesn't, I'm gonna laughing gas all the members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences live on TV! That'll get the ratings up! Now go get your makeup done – it's gonna take a couple hours at least to make you look attractive."

"Said the pot to kettle!" snapped Two-Face.

"I dunno what you're talking about," sniffed Joker. "I'm gonna dye my hair black, but that won't take a moment. And a little foundation will do for my face and hands…ok, a lotta foundation," he admitted.

"And you're gonna need a whole body's worth of foundation for those sex scenes," said Ivy, nodding.

"Hmm…you know, I hadn't thought about that," said Joker, thoughtfully. "Maybe we'll just film it naturally and then have the special effects guys touch up my skin on the computer. They can do all kinds of things with computers these days. Just look at the new Star Wars movies."

"Those were terrible movies, J," retorted Two-Face, bluntly.

"I know," said Joker, shrugging. "But they looked pretty for something with no real sets and no real actors."

"There were real actors in it," replied Two-Face.

"Really?" said Joker, surprised. "Huh. The acting was so mechanical, I thought they were all generated by a buncha computers. Anyway, at least we got a great story for our movie, guys – true love, action, drama, danger, and horrific tragedy. Well, I guess the new Star Wars movies had the last one – I mean, it was a tragedy they were made and all…"

"So we're just going to act against these blue screens and pretend there's a ship sinking around us?" interrupted Jervis Tetch. "Won't that be incredibly difficult?"

"Not if you got a little imagination, Tetchy," retorted Joker. "And you gotta have a great imagination if you think that kid you're in love with is ever gonna return your affections. Now Harvey, off to makeup."

"Where's Harley?" asked Ivy, looking around as Two-Face stormed off.

"Getting her costume fitted," he replied. "And after that, we're gonna start filming some scenes."

"I bet her dresses are gorgeous," muttered Ivy. "And she only got this role because she's sleeping with the director."

"Hey, it's a tried and tested Hollywood method, Pammie!" chuckled Joker. "Don't knock good, old-fashioned traditions! Anyway, you should be happy I gave you the song to sing. I could have given that to Harley too."

"You should have!" snapped Ivy. "I'm not sure even I'm a good enough actress to make the lyrics sound convincingly heartfelt! _Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that my smile does go on. Once more, you grin like before, and you're here in my smile, and my smile goes on and on. _I mean, what does that even mean?!"

"Well, the original song didn't make sense anyway," retorted Joker. "I think my version's an improvement."

"Where is Arkham getting the money for all this?" asked Crane, studying the high definition cameras.

"Beats me," retorted Joker, shrugging. "Maybe some wealthy donor has finally seen me for the visionary genius I am, and has given me limitless funds to display my exceptional talents on the big screen."

"Wouldn't your exceptional talents involve a comic film of some sort?" asked Crane.

Joker stared at him. "Well, yeah…whaddya think this is, Johnny? Ship hits an iceberg, sinks, everyone dies…c'mon, it's hilarious stuff!"

"_Titanic_'s a romantic drama, not a comedy!" snapped Ivy.

"Yes, surely you can't mean to make a comedy out of the tragic death of hundreds of people?" demanded Tetch.

"I can and do," retorted Joker. "And don't call me Shirley."

"J, you have to take this seriously!" snapped Ivy. "I'm not gonna appear in some stupid, slapstick version of one of the greatest romantic movies of all time!"

"Yes, we'll walk out," said Crane, firmly. "If you're going to do this story, you have to do it justice, not make it into some weird, bizarre, dark-humored mess!"

"Guys, where's your spirit of creativity?" demanded Joker. "Anyway, I've already rewritten the whole script full of jokes! Listen to this one: what do you get if you cross the Atlantic with the Titanic? About halfway!"

Joker laughed hysterically, but nobody else did. "J, seriously, fix it, or we're walking," snapped Ivy.

"Fine!" he retorted. "I'll rewrite it in a more serious tone! Buncha humorless chumps…" he muttered, crossing out the joke.

"Puddin'? How does it look?" came a voice from the doorway.

Everyone looked up to see Harley dressed in a stunning Edwardian gown. "Mouth closed, Johnny," snapped Joker, as he saw Crane's jaw drop.

"My dear, you look simply gorgeous," said Tetch, taking Harley's hand and kissing it. "There's nothing more attractive than a lady in an Edwardian dress."

"Unless it's a child in an Edwardian dress, right, Tetchy?" chuckled Joker, shoving him out of the way and studying Harley. "Gotta say, baby, that look really suits you."

"Aw, thanks, puddin'!" said Harley, beaming. "I feel real glamorous."

"Yeah, and it puts me in the mood to film our sex scene now," said Joker, grinning as he headed over to stand in front of the camera. "C'mon, baby, let's do this."

"You can't actually put a real sex scene between you two in the movie!" snapped Ivy. "It'll traumatize the viewers!"

"But Red, he's never asked for sex before!" gasped Harley, struggling to free herself from the restrictive dress. "I'm coming, Mr. J! Gimme a hand with this, will ya, Red?" she pleaded, gesturing at the dress.

"You do realize you're going to have to do multiple takes of the same scene?" demanded Crane.

"Yeah. So? I got the stamina," retorted Joker. "And I don't think Harley will be complaining, will ya, pooh?"

"Nah uh, Mr. J!" called Harley. Her voice was muffled since she had got stuck trying to pull the dress over her head, and Ivy was now trying to tug it free.

"Don't rip the costume!" cried Tetch, racing over to help her. "Honestly, people are too impatient to undress these days! You have to carefully undo all these individual knots at the back of the corset, see?" he said, gesturing.

"Is this why people back in those days were all sexually repressed?" asked Joker, giggling. "Because it took them forever to get their clothes off? Mind you, some of us still are today, right, Johnny?"

They heard a tear, and saw Ivy finally managing to free Harley from the dress, which now had a giant split up the back. Tetch cried out as if he had been struck, seizing the dress from her and rushing off to sew it up. Harley was wearing only a loose-fitting underdress, and she skipped over to Joker, kissing him passionately.

"Ok, roll camera, and you freaks beat it!" snapped Joker at Crane and Ivy. "You'll have to wait to see me perform in the movie, just like everyone else! No spoilers!" he giggled, pushing Harley down on the ground.

Crane and Ivy hurried from the room to the sound of Harley's cries of pleasure and shrieks of "Oh, puddin'! I mean…Jack! Oh, I don't know about you, but I think this scene could really be improved with a whoopie cushion!"

"Pooh, you read my mind!" chuckled Joker.

Ivy sighed heavily. "Harvey was right," she muttered. "This is gonna be a disaster."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to our screening," said Joker, to the assembled audience, which consisted mostly of his fellow inmates, the Arkham doctors and guards, and Bruce Wayne. "Well, I'd like to thank those of you who had a choice in the matter, which I think is just Bruce Wayne," he chuckled. "Still, it's nice to have a celebrity at our premiere. This has been a labor of love for all of us for the past few months, although only I've seen the finished product which you're about to witness," he said, gesturing to the large screen. "I'd like to thank everyone involved with it, including the guards and doctors who played all the little extra-type roles. This is the first professional film Joker Productions has made, but hopefully not the last. I mean, I've done ransom videos and stuff like that before, a few commercials too. Everyone remember the Joker Fish commercial? That was a classic."

"I do, puddin'!" piped up Harley. "It made me sick, but it was great!"

"Anyway, those don't really count," he continued. "If people are pleased with this movie, maybe we can find a distributor, and do some follow up films. Well, I'll let the material speak for itself without further ado. I really hope you enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed making it. Ladies and gents, _My Smile Will Go On_!"

Everyone applauded, and Harley cheered from the front row, leaping to her feet and giving him a standing ovation. "Wait until after the film, Harl," he said, pinching her cheek and smiling as he sat down next to her. "I hope everyone likes it."

"They'll love it, puddin'," she purred, kissing his cheek.

"Bets on how long it's gonna take before one of us walks out?" whispered Ivy, who sat behind them on the same row as Two-Face, Crane, Tetch, and Nygma. "Anyone thinking longer than five minutes?"

"I'd have to consult the coin," retorted Two-Face.

"If the opening scene looks as fake as I think it's going to, I'm leaving right after it," said Crane, nodding.

"I think I'd like to stay for my initial performance," said Tetch. "But probably no longer."

The lights dimmed, and Bruce Wayne sat back in his chair, preparing for the worst as the music began playing and the Joker's face appeared on screen, roaring like the MGM lion, with _Joker Productions_ written underneath.

"Oh God, this is gonna be hell," he whispered to himself.

And then the screen faded, and hauntingly beautiful Celtic music began to play as the camera panned down and focused on the Titanic docked in the harbor. Bruce's jaw fell open, as did the rest of the Arkham inmates. The harbor and ship looked incredibly real.

"Oh…my God!" gasped Ivy. "That's amazing special effects!"

"Told you, Pammie, those computer guys are geniuses!" chuckled Joker.

"It's beautiful!" whispered Crane. "The whole thing just looks…beautiful!"

They saw Harley step out of an old-fashioned car and onto the gangplank to board the Titanic, looking very elegant in her Edwardian costume. "I think I might cry," whispered Tetch, reaching for his handkerchief.

She was followed by Ivy and Two-Face, who also looked incredible in their costumes. The camera then panned through the streets and rested in a dingy bar by the waterfront, where a familiar man sat at a game of cards.

"You look so handsome, puddin'!" purred Harley in the front row, kissing his cheek again. "Even with your normal skin and black hair!"

"Shh, Harley, you're gonna miss the plot!" hissed Joker, clapping a hand over her mouth. "This is all important character development stuff!"

"…so I guess it'd be kinda convenient for you to skip town for a while, huh, Jack?" said the man opposite him, smoking a cigarette and smiling.

Jack lit his own cigarette and smiled back. "You could say that, Buzz," he agreed. "I guess you've seen the wanted posters around?"

"Yeah. Two thousand dollars is a pretty good price for your head," replied Buzz, nodding as Jack dealt the cards. "Were the guys you bumped off really worth that much?"

"The cops certainly think so," agreed Jack, grinning. "And frankly, it's all I got left for my poker stake," he said, throwing a bunch of bills on the table. "But that's about what emergency boat tickets are worth, right? C'mon, Buzz, help an old pal and fellow criminal out. Gordon's on my ass, and you know how persistent he can be."

Buzz glanced at his friend Chuckie. "Well, as it happens, we just happen to have a ticket available for that ship out there," he said, nodding out the window.

Jack turned to look. "What, the unsinkable one?" he asked. "Titanfall?"

"Titanic," corrected Buzz. "Yeah. It's steerage class, which means you're gonna be at the bottom of the boat…"

"Better hope those unsinkable rumors are true, then!" chuckled Jack.

"They are," retorted Chuckie, confidently. "If you've been reading the papers, they say it's unlike any boat they ever built before. The guy who designed it, Crane, he's like some kinda genius. It's got size, speed, and complete invulnerability."

"Sounds almost too good to be true," said Jack. "Where's it headed?"

"Does it matter?" asked Buzz. "It'll get you outta Gotham. Of course you can always stay here and take your chances with Gordon, if you'd prefer."

He pocketed the money and held out the ticket. "What do ya think, Jack?" he asked. "Feeling lucky?"

Jack grinned. "You know me, Buzz," he said, taking the ticket from him. "I'm a lucky guy."

The ship's whistle blew suddenly. "You'd better hurry if you don't wanna miss it," said Buzz, tossing his cards back at Jack.

Jack grabbed his glass, draining the remaining whiskey in one gulp. "Well, pleasure doing business with you, gents," he said, collecting the cards, Joker on top, and slipping them into his pocket. "See ya around!"

He raced out of the bar, dashing toward the ship's gangplank and shoving his ticket at the guard. "Yeah, hi, Jack Napier, steerage class," he said.

The guard examined the ticket and nodded. "Follow the signs, sir. It's a bit of a walk."

Jack hastened on board the ship, looking around and whistling. "Boy, they weren't kidding about the size," he said. "Just look at this thing!"

He raced to the prow of the ship, throwing up his hands and shouting, "I'm king of the world!"

"What on earth are you doing?" snapped a voice. Jack turned to see Jonathan Crane standing behind him, glaring at him.

"Only crew-members are allowed here," he snapped. "It's a safety hazard."

"And you're what, the boat police?" demanded Jack.

"I'm the architect of this ship," retorted Crane, coldly. "But if you'd like to take it up with the captain, I'm sure I can find him."

"Oh, you're Crane!" said Jack, smiling. "Hey, is it true this thing's unsinkable?"

"Quite unsinkable, yes," retorted Crane. "It's the latest in floatation technology. In case of any breach of the hull, watertight doors can be shut so the leaks will be contained. In fact, I'm so certain of this ship's invulnerability that we've cut down on lifeboats, since they're completely unnecessary."

"That sounds kinda like tempting fate to me," replied Jack.

"I'm a man of science – I don't believe in fate," said Crane.

"Well, it'd be quite the joke on you if it sank though, wouldn't it?" chuckled Jack. "You and everyone on here! Not a very funny joke, though."

"That would utterly impossible," snapped Crane. "God himself could not sink this ship."

Ominous music suddenly began playing from somewhere, and they both looked around, confused, for a moment. "Oh, it's just the band tuning up," said Crane, nodding at the nearby ship's band.

"We're just about ready to set sail, Jonathan, if you want to join me at the helm," said Jervis Tetch, coming over to join them.

"Certainly, Captain Tetch," said Crane, nodding. He turned back to glare at Jack with withering contempt. "On your way, sir. Steerage class, aren't you? You'd best return to where you belong."

"Yeah…sure…wouldn't wanna take a look around your precious ship or anything. Jerk," muttered Jack, heading for the stairs and lighting a cigarette. "Hope it sinks."

"Course is set, Captain, heading twelve degrees by three degrees east," said a crewmember, saluting Tetch and Crane as they reached the helm.

"Excellent. Push off, and steady as she goes," said Tetch, looking out toward the horizon.

"I've got a very good feeling about this maiden voyage, Jervis," said Crane, smiling. "What could possibly go wrong?"

At that moment, the film abruptly cut off to the sound of squeaking tape. "Aw, Christ, it's unraveled!" exclaimed Joker, standing up and racing over to the projector. "Just gimme a second to fix it…"

"Joker, how did you…how…it looks great!" gasped Dr. Leland. "I mean, it looks so…real and professional!"

"Well, what were you expecting, Doc, a second rate job?" asked Joker, shrugging. "I'm a committed guy, y'know, and a perfectionist when it comes to the stuff I commit to. Of course it's fantastic! I made it!"

Ivy, Two-Face, Crane, Tetch, and Nygma all shared a look. It didn't look like anyone was going to be walking out. Even Bruce Wayne sat in stunned silence, wondering why he hadn't thought of this as a way to distract the Joker years ago.


	5. Chapter 5

When the movie began again, it was to a scene in Harley's elegant and luxurious cabin. She was staring at the mirror, tears in her wide, blue eyes as she gazed at her reflection.

Her door opened suddenly, and Poison Ivy entered. "Turn around – let me look at you," she said, taking her shoulders and pulling her around to face her. She noticed her tears and sighed audibly, reaching for a handkerchief and wiping them way. "Honestly, Harley, tears aren't attractive," she muttered. "And don't you want to look your best for your marriage proposal?"

Harley didn't respond. "I…I don't want to marry him, Mother," she whispered at last.

"It doesn't matter what you want, Harley, for the hundredth time," retorted Ivy. "Harvey is a rich man, and an excellent match for you. He's young, handsome, charismatic, and he's got a great future ahead of him. I don't understand why you could possibly object to the match."

"I don't…love him," she stammered.

Ivy gazed at her in surprise. "My dear, what's love got to do with anything?" she sighed. "Do you think I loved your father when I married him? No. It was simply a matter of circumstances. He was wealthy – I was not. I'm trying to spare you the fate that I had to suffer for so many years by arranging a rich match for you, and saving you from a life of poverty. You should be thanking me, not being difficult. I would have killed for a man like Harvey when I was your age."

"Then why don't you marry him?" muttered Harley.

"Because he's not interested in me – he's interested in you," retorted Ivy. "Mind you, it would have been different if I were a younger woman – in my youth, I could have any man I wanted. And you've got my beauty, my darling," she said, stroking Harley's hair back from her face. "So don't waste it. Take advantage of it, and use it to get a man who can provide for you."

Harley said nothing. Ivy went over to her bedside table and picked up the novel she was reading. "Here's your problem," she said, holding it up. "Too many books. Nobody likes a girl who reads – her eyes start to squint up and it makes her unattractive. And it gives her silly ideas about true love. It doesn't exist. It's all nonsense."

She dumped the book in the trash can. "Now listen to me," she said, taking her by the shoulders again. "I'm your mother and I know best. Harvey is outside waiting to propose to you. You are going to accept him, and you are going to be married once we dock, do you understand me?"

Harley nodded slowly. "Yes, Mother," she whispered.

"Good girl," said Ivy, kissing her forehead. "Now smile. I'm going to send him in."

Ivy left, shutting the door behind her. Harley didn't smile – she turned back to the mirror, trying to hold back her tears. There was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, forcing a smile.

Harvey Dent entered. "Harley, you look beautiful," he said, smiling at her.

"Thanks," she whispered. "Please…uh…sit down," she said, gesturing to a chair.

"Thank you, but I prefer to stand," he said. "I think I should be standing for…uh…" He trailed off. There was an awkward silence until Dent cleared his throat. "Uh…you might…uh…know the reason why I'm here, or at least have guessed…"

"Mother told me," interrupted Harley, turning back to face the mirror.

"Oh, good," he said. "Well…how about it, then?"

"That's your proposal of marriage?" whispered Harley. "How about it, then?"

"Look, Harley, I'm no good with all this silly, romantic crap," retorted Dent. "And you're a smart girl – you shouldn't need any of that fluffy stuff. I think you're an incredibly beautiful woman, I admire you very much, and I want to marry you. I think I'm in a suitable position in my life to take a wife, and I have a lot to offer her – financial security, and a position in society. And…well…I don't think I'm the most unattractive man in the world…"

"You're very handsome, Harvey," murmured Harley.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, smiling at her. "So you've no objection to our marriage?"

"No objection of any consequence," murmured Harley.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I was hoping that'd be your answer, and I bought you a little engagement present before we left Gotham," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Thought I'd deviate from the traditional ring a bit, and I think you'll be very pleased with the result."

He opened a box to reveal a stunning silver necklace with a giant blue diamond cut into the shape of a heart. "_Le Coeur de la Mer_," he said, undoing the clasp and placing it around her neck. "The Heart of the Ocean. It originally belonged to Louis XVI, but he lost it during the French Revolution."

"Along with his head, which I'm sure was far more precious to him," murmured Harley, reaching up to touch the diamond. "But thank you, Harvey, it's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it – you've no idea what I paid for it!" said Dent, grinning. "Cost an arm and a leg. But my beautiful wife-to-be is worth it," he said, taking her in his arms and bringing his lips to hers.

Harley tried to return the kiss, but tears slipped out from between her closed eyes, and she drew away suddenly. "Forgive me, Harvey, I'm just feeling a little…overwhelmed," she murmured, wiping her eyes.

"Of course, I understand," he said, taking her hand. "I hear women often cry at their proposals. And their weddings. But I don't mind you being a little sensitive – that's very becoming in a woman," he said, smiling. "I'll leave you to your cry and see you at dinner."

He kissed her hand and left the room. Harley returned to the mirror, studying the necklace and realizing slowly what it meant. It was a chain around her neck binding her in marriage to a man she didn't love. It was her giving up any hope or dream of love, and resigning herself to a dull, tedious existence as the wife of a successful businessman. And that realization made her want to tear the necklace from her throat and throw it into the ocean.

The room suddenly felt very stuffy. Harley gasped for air, rushing toward the door and throwing it open. She raced down the halls, climbing up onto the deck at last and heading toward the prow, her heart pounding. Right now, death seemed more preferable than a future like that.

She reached the prow at last, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching. The night was dark, but a few lamps cast a gentle glow around the deck, which appeared to be empty since everyone was either at dinner or getting ready for it. Slowly, Harley climbed up on the railing with some difficulty, looking down into the almost welcoming waves of the water below. She gazed at them for a moment, preparing to jump.

"You're gonna fall and break your neck if you're not careful," said a voice suddenly. She whirled around to see a strange man sitting up from one of the benches, smoking a cigarette. She hadn't noticed him before – he had blended in with the darkness, and was now studying her with bright, curious green eyes.

"That's not your concern, is it?" she snapped, furious at being interrupted.

He shrugged. "No, you suit yourself," he said. "Although if breaking your neck is what you're after, there are quicker ways to do it than jumping from a ship or drowning. Drowning takes forever, and since the fall probably won't kill you, you're more likely to get crushed by the ship or torn up by its propeller. Nasty, unpleasant ways to go."

"I repeat, it's not your concern!" snapped Harley. "Just go away!"

"I was here first," he retorted. "You go away."

"That is precisely what I'm trying to do!" she retorted. "I'm trying to…go away from everything…"

She choked on a sob, staring down into the water again. "If you don't mind my asking, what could be so terrible for a wealthy, pretty girl like you to make you wanna kill yourself?" he asked.

"How do you know I'm wealthy?" she demanded.

"The way you talk," he replied. "And that giant rock you got around your neck. That must have cost a pretty penny."

Harley looked down at the necklace, grabbing the diamond and ripping it off her throat. "There!" she snapped, tossing it at his feet. "It's yours if you stop pestering me with questions and just leave me to my business!"

"Wow, great deal!" he exclaimed, picking up and pocketing it. "You got it, toots! No more questions!"

He continued to stare at her, smoking in silence. "I thought I asked you to leave me to my business…" said Harley, annoyed.

"Yeah, I ain't interfering," he retorted, nodding. "Just standing here smoking. You carry on. C'mon, go ahead and jump. Just hurry up about it, would ya?"

"I…I can't do it when you're watching!" she snapped.

He shrugged again, lying back down and staring up at the stars, smoking calmly. "I'm waiting for a splash," he said.

Harley looked down into the water again, her desire to kill herself suddenly fading when she thought about getting crushed by the ship or being chopped up by the propeller. Slowly, she climbed down from the railing, coming over to sit down next to the mysterious man.

He grinned at her. "No splash?" he asked.

"Don't be impertinent," she snapped. "Just give me my necklace back."

"What necklace?" he asked, innocently.

"Are you trying to be funny?" she demanded. "The necklace I just threw at you! The Heart of the Ocean!"

He cocked his head. "Don't recall you throwing any necklace at me, sweets. But frankly, if you had, I'd assume it was finders keepers. A deal's a deal, after all, and I didn't interfere in your suicide attempt."

Harley stood up angrily. "Give it back right now or I'm going to fetch the captain!" she snapped. "And my fiance, and he'll beat you to within an inch of your life, you common thief!"

"Common thief?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows. "I'm offended, sweetheart! I may be a thief, but there's nothing common about me!"

He reached into his pocket and handed her the necklace back. "There. Now just calm down. You're clearly a high strung broad, what with the attention-seeking suicide attempt and the near hysterics. I feel bad for your poor fiance."

"How…dare you?" snapped Harley. "It wasn't an attention-seeking suicide attempt! I…I really wanted to…kill myself…"

She trailed off, burying her face in her hands and crying. "Hey, hey, hey," he said gently, putting an arm around her and holding out a handkerchief. "C'mon, dry those eyes. Life can't be that bad, huh? Not for a gal like you, with your beauty and your money…"

"Those things don't buy you happiness," she whispered. "And I'm…very unhappy."

"Yeah, I can see that," he said, nodding. "No wonder you wanted to kill yourself. Fate worse than death, not being happy. I should know – I'm always a happy guy!" he chuckled. He held out his hand to her. "Jack Napier," he said.

"Harleen Quinzel," she murmured, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Napier. Thank you for…talking me down from the railing."

"Aw, I didn't do anything but speak the truth," he said, shrugging. "It would have been a pretty unpleasant way to go. That's the thing about jumping off stuff to kill yourself – you probably regret it halfway down!" he chuckled.

"Do you always joke about death?" she murmured.

"I joke about everything," he replied. "What else can you do in this joke of a life, toots?"

He inhaled from his cigarette. "Sorry, where are my manners?" he said, reaching into his pocket. "You wanna smoke?"

"Erm…no, thank you," stammered Harley.

"Your loss," he retorted, putting his cigarette case away. "And more for me!"

Harley replaced the necklace around her neck. "Gotta say, that is a pretty impressive rock," he said, whistling.

"My…fiance gave it to me," she whispered. "As an engagement present."

"I can see why you're marrying him!" he chuckled. "Guy must be loaded!"

"Yes," she agreed. "That's why I'm marrying him."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I…I don't love him," she whispered. "That's why I'm unhappy. I don't want to marry a man I don't love."

"No, that'd be pretty stupid," he said, nodding. "I mean, what good's all the money in the world if you spend your life hating the guy you share it with, and resenting him for keeping you a prisoner of your marriage?"

"Well, my…mother thinks it's important for me to have a secure future," murmured Harley.

"No such thing," retorted Jack. "Nobody's future is secure. Little accidents always seem to get in the way of whatever you plan. Take this ship, for example," he said, nodding at it. "Could hit an iceberg and sink suddenly or something."

"That's impossible," replied Harley. "It's unsinkable."

Jack shrugged. "First time for everything," he replied. "And say the ship did sink, and you died. Or say you marry this guy, and the day after your wedding, you get hit by a car and killed. Would marrying him for your secure future seem smart then? Or will it have seemed like you wasted your life doing something you didn't wanna do?"

"You have a very persuasive way of looking at things, Mr. Napier," murmured Harley.

"Oh, call me Jack," he said. "Lady like you don't need to be formal with a guy like me, Miss Quinzel."

"Harley," she whispered. "My name is Harley."

"Pretty name," he said. "For a pretty girl."

Harley smiled. "There, y'see?" he said, grinning at her. "Life ain't so bad."

Harley opened her mouth to respond, when a shout of "Harley!" drew her attention away from Jack. She turned to see Dent and her mother racing toward here.

"There you are!" gasped Ivy. "What on earth are you doing out in this night air? You'll catch your death of cold!"

"I'm fine, Mother," murmured Harley. "I'm not cold…"

Dent ignored her, taking off his jacket and draping it over her. "What are you doing out here, Harley? Dinner's being served."

"I…I just wanted a walk in the fresh air and…lost track of time," stammered Harley. "I've just been talking to…Mr. Napier."

Both Ivy and Dent turned to look at Jack, and an expression of contempt and suspicion passed over their faces with one look at his clothes. "Indeed?" said Ivy. "And what have I told you about talking to strangers, Harley?"

"I…he…he saved me from…falling over the edge of the ship," stammered Harley. "I was looking over the side and…felt faint and…he caught me."

"Oh, Harley, you should be more careful!" gasped Dent, embracing her. "Don't ever go out without an escort again! I'm always happy to walk with you."

"I think rather than chastising me, you should be thanking Mr. Napier," snapped Harley.

"Hey, don't worry about it," said Jack, shrugging.

"No, let me give him some money," said Dent, reaching into his pocket.

"And what price would you put on my life exactly?" snapped Harley.

"Well, how else does one thank a…man like him?" demanded Dent.

Harley glared at Dent, and then looked back at Jack. "Invite him to dinner," she snapped. "Tomorrow night."

"Dinner?" Dent repeated. "With…with us? But…but Harley, he's a…steerage passenger."

"Yeah, and wouldn't you know it? I left my best suit back in Gotham!" chuckled Jack. "Purple suit and everything – would have made quite an impression!"

"Invite him to dinner," repeated Harley. "Don't worry, Mr. Napier, we'll find something suitable for you to wear. Won't we, Harvey?"

Dent looked helplessly at Ivy, who looked beyond horrified to even be seen talking with a steerage passenger. "Yes…all right," he muttered at last. "Six o'clock in the stateroom, Mr. Napier. I'm sure a crewmember can direct you there. Good evening," he said, taking Harley's arm firmly.

Harley broke away from him, heading back over to Jack and holding out her hand. "Thank you again, Mr. Napier," she whispered. "For everything."

"It was nothing," he replied, sincerely. "Anyone would have done the same in my position. The death of…someone like you would have been such a waste, toots. Such a terrible waste."

Harley smiled again as he bent down and kissed her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured. "Good evening, Mr. Napier."

Dent grabbed her arm again and pulled her away. "Honestly, they should keep riff-raff like that below decks," muttered Ivy. "They shouldn't be allowed to prowl all over the ship like that."

"How do you know he's riff-raff, Mother?" snapped Harley.

She snorted. "Just look at him! Man's obviously some sort of criminal."

"Yes, I'll tell the waiters to keep an eye out at dinner, or else they might find some of their silver's been stolen!" laughed Dent. Ivy joined in, but Harley did not, glancing back to look at Jack and smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

A insistent knocking on the door roused Jack from his cramped bunk the next morning. "All right, all right, keep your shirt on! I'm coming!" he called, throwing open the door.

His jaw dropped when he saw Harley standing there. "H…Harley!" he stammered, suddenly painfully aware that he was just wearing his boxers and undershirt. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I just…uh…came to bring you a suit," stammered Harley, staring at him and blushing. "A member of the crew told me which cabin was yours and I thought I'd…deliver it myself. Sorry…sorry to wake you."

"Oh no, you didn't," he said, hastily, reaching for his trousers. "I was just…uh…sorry, lemme just get dressed."

"Yes, good idea," said Harley, hastily. "I'll just be…waiting outside the door. You can try on the suit too," she said, handing it to him. "It's one of Harvey's…might be a bit loose on…someone of your build…uh…here," she said, turning away.

"Thanks, I'll…only be a minute," said Jack, shutting the door hastily. Harley felt herself blushing and willed it down, but she couldn't control the pounding of her heart.

The door opened a few minutes later, and Jack emerged, dressed in his shabby suit of the previous day. "Yeah, the dinner suit fits fine," he said. "Bit loose, but it's the best I'm gonna do on such short notice, without a tailor onboard, and in my financial situation!" he chuckled.

"Oh, you're having money problems?" asked Harley. "I'm sorry – I would have let Harvey give you money instead of this dinner if I had known…"

"Hey, I don't have money problems!" he chuckled. "There's a lotta of it floating around, and they print more of it every day! I'll get my hands on some of it somehow. Anyway, I wouldn't want something common like that when I could be having dinner with you instead, toots."

Harley blushed. "Well, that's…very kind," she stammered. "Though I'm sure it's going to be a very boring affair. Everyone is going to be there – Mother, Harvey, Captain Tetch, Mr. Crane…"

"Oh, great, I'm really excited to be meeting him again," said Jack, sarcastically. "Any idea if he's removed the stick up his ass yet?"

Harley was shocked to hear such language, and he noticed, because he stammered hastily, "Er…if you'll pardon my language. The guy was just a bit of a jerk to me when we set sail. I mean, I'm used to being treated like crap, but that don't mean I have to like it."

"I'm sorry you've been treated badly," murmured Harley. "And I'd like to apologize for Mother and Harvey last night too. They should have been a lot more grateful and a lot less unpleasant to you. It was very unkind for Mother to call you a criminal."

He shrugged. "That's ok, toots. I _am _a criminal."

She stared at him. "You…you are?" she stammered, confused and realizing she should be appalled at such an admission. But she wasn't.

"Yep," he replied, nodding. "That's why I had to leave Gotham. One too many people after my head, including the cops."

"What kind of criminal are…I mean…what have you done?" she asked, slowly.

He chuckled. "It'd be easier to ask me what I _haven't_ done, toots! The list is a lot shorter!"

"Oh," she stammered, stunned. "Oh, I…I see."

He smiled at her. "Bet you kinda regret asking me to dinner, huh? You probably just wanna go and never see me again."

"I just…I've never met a criminal before," she said. "Are you…dangerous?"

He grinned, and then took her hand, pulling her close and setting her heart pounding again. "Only to people I don't like, toots," he whispered in her ear. He drew away, smiling. "You wanna go for a walk on deck?"

Harley knew she should have said no – all common sense told her to get as far away as possible from this man. But something made her nod instead, and respond with, "Yes, that'd be nice."

He laughed as they made their way down the corridors of third class, slowly heading up toward the deck. "I'm glad me being a criminal doesn't bother you."

"It does bother me," she retorted. "I can't understand why…anyone would engage in a profession like that."

He shrugged. "It pays. That's why people go into most professions, toots. See, a criminal is a person just like anyone else. And the reasons they do what they do are the probably the same reasons other people stay stuck in their dead-end jobs. They don't know any different, and they're just grateful to be able to earn a living. Not me, though. I do it because it's fun."

"How can breaking the law be fun?" asked Harley.

"You ever done it?" he asked. She shook her head vehemently. "Well, then I can't explain it. You just have to try it and see for yourself."

"I don't think…Mother would approve," she said.

He laughed. "You can't live your life for others to approve of, sweetheart," he said. "You'll never have any fun."

They emerged into the sunlight and fresh sea air. "I like to make a game outta it," he continued.

"A game?" she repeated, puzzled.

He nodded. "I'll show you. Sit here," he said, gesturing to a deck chair. "Now watch me."

Harley obeyed, watching him strolling innocently around the deck. He approached a wealthy-looking couple, tipping his hat and asking for the time. While the man checked his pocket watch, Jack chatted to the woman, pointing to the sea and indicating the fine weather. After the man gave him the time, Jack thanked him, tipped his hat again, and returned to Harley.

"How is that a game?" she asked. "That's just making polite conver…"

She trailed off as Jack suddenly produced the man's wallet, which he had pick-pocketed while the couple was distracted. "Not much here," he said, glumly, leafing through it. "Couple hundreds. It'll tide me over for a little while, though. Thank you, Dick Grayson!" he chuckled, pulling a business card out of the wallet.

Harley stared at him, astounded, as he sat down next to her. He grinned, handing her the wallet. "The game is seeing how many of these you can get without getting caught. A bit like Monopoly – keep rolling the dice until you're sent to jail!" he chuckled.

"What's Monopoly?" asked Harley.

"Oh yeah, that's right, it's probably not invented yet," he said, shrugging.

Harley looked through the wallet. She found a folded piece of paper in one corner, and fished it out, unfolding it slowly. And she was shocked for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The folded up piece of paper was a drawing of a naked woman in a seductive pose, lying on a sofa. A woman who was not the woman who had been accompanying the man.

"Whatcha found?" asked Jack, looking over. He whistled. "Hot broad, I'll give him that. Seline Kyle, Paris, 1911," he read, noticing the name written underneath. "French girl. How exotic."

"Why does he have…I mean…this isn't his wife!" gasped Harley.

Jack laughed. "Nope! Probably why he keeps it hidden away in his wallet! I bet he's gonna be a lot more torn up about losing that than losing the money!"

"Women…I mean…there are women out there who…who…who pose for this…kind of thing?" stammered Harley.

"Sure," said Jack, shrugging. "Known a few myself. Like I said, kiddo – a lotta people do what they have to to make a living. You'll never know anything about that, being set up for life and all."

"No?" she said. "I'm marrying a man I don't love in order to make a living. I suppose that's very similar to selling my body for money for the sake of art. If one can call this art," she said, folding it away again.

She tucked the wallet under the chair. "You ain't gonna return it to him, huh?" asked Jack.

"Of course not!" she said. "I'm not going to encourage immorality of that sort…"

"So you're fine with me stealing his wallet," he interrupted. "Because not returning something you've seen stolen is pretty wrong. Are you saying you're fine doing the wrong thing?"

"In this instance…yes," she stammered. She was silent for a long time. "I wonder what…that feels like," she murmured at last. "To be lying…naked and vulnerable, being studied by a man's eyes while he draws you…"

"Probably pretty hot," said Jack. "I know it would be for the guy…" He trailed off. "Hey, maybe you can get your fiance to do it after you're married," he said, smiling.

"I don't think Harvey's interested in art," said Harley. "And I don't think he'd approve of…that sort of thing."

She blushed at the thought. "You wanna try?" asked Jack, suddenly.

"Try what?" she asked.

"Pick-pocketing," he replied. "Why? What did you think I meant?"

"I…I didn't…um…no, I don't want to," stammered Harley. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Aw, c'mon, kid," he said. "How do you know you won't enjoy it if you don't try?"

"If I got caught, it would be disastrous," retorted Harley. "What would my mother say, and Harvey…"

"I told you, you have to stop living for other people," he interrupted. "Live for yourself. But fine, don't try it if you don't want to," he said, leaning back in the chair and putting his hat over his face. "Stay a good girl your whole life, never breaking any rules and never being bad. Whatever makes you happy. I just think you can't do it."

"I could!" snapped Harley. "If I wanted to."

He grinned. "Prove it," he murmured.

Harley sat thinking for some minutes. Then she stood up abruptly, heading over to the railing to stand next to a wealthy older gentleman. "Lovely weather," she commented.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "A very good morning to you, Miss…"

"Uh…Napier. Miss Napier," she invented, afraid of giving her real name.

"Alfred Pennyworth, pleasure to meet you," he said, kissing her hand.

"I don't think I've ever seen the ocean so calm," continued Harley.

"No, indeed," he agreed. "The wind is very favorable, and you might notice the clouds – their effect on the weather and the tide is presented in an extremely engaging paper I read a few days ago in a very distinguished journal…"

Harley let him talk, nervously reaching toward his back pocket. She gently touched his wallet, attempting to fish it out, when he looked down at her hand.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"No…um…that is…your wallet was about to fall out," she invented. "Just didn't want that to happen. But it's fine now," she said, patting it. "Well…uh…good day."

She headed back over to Jack, with the man staring after her. Jack was still pretending to nap, but he raised his hat and smiled at her. "Shut up," she muttered, sitting down.

"Didn't say anything," he chuckled, leaning back and shutting his eyes.

Harley and Jack spent the rest of the day together, and just before sunset, Harley got up the courage to try pick-pocketing again. This time she chose a wealthy young man called Mr. Todd, engaged him in the same chat, and again failed as he noticed her hand sliding into his pocket. He got much angrier than the other man, shouting and threatening to report her, but as he reached forward to seize her, Jack suddenly seized her arm, pulling her away. "Run, kid!" he shouted, racing off across the deck. Harley raced behind him, heart pounding in excitement and adrenaline at the attempted stealing, at being caught, and being chased. At last, they ducked into an empty cabin, and hid there until the man ran past. Then they both collapsed in fits of giggles.

"You're the worst criminal in the world, Harley!" laughed Jack, recovering himself slowly. "But frankly also the prettiest."

Harley beamed at him as he held out a hand to help her up. She took it, and he pulled her up into his arms. Their faces were startlingly close, and Harley's heart began to speed up as she gazed into his eyes.

"C'mon," he said, opening the door and leading her back on deck. "I wanna show you something."

"If you get me in trouble again…" she began.

"Well, yeah, we might get in trouble if we're caught," he admitted. "But it'll be worth it, you'll see."

They reached the prow of the ship, and Jack helped her climb onto it. Harley's breath caught in her throat as she stood there, watching the sunset soaring in front of her. "Hold out your arms," he said, standing behind her and holding her around the waist. She obeyed, shutting her eyes.

"I'm flying, Jack," she whispered.

"No, you ain't," he murmured. "At least, not yet."

Harley screamed suddenly as she felt him let go of her, and she fell forward through the air toward the water. She was caught again almost instantly, and heard him laughing hysterically behind her.

"It's not funny!" she shrieked. "Don't ever do that again!"

"Ok, I promise," he said, pulling her back up. Harley shut her eyes again, gradually holding out her arms…and screamed as she fell forward again, and was caught.

"What did I tell you?!" she shrieked.

"Jeez, kiddo, can't you take a joke?" he chuckled. "And I thought you wanted to feel like you're flying!"

"Flying, not falling!" she snapped. She glared at him, and then shut her eyes again, holding out her arms. "Don't you dare do it again…" she began.

But she was cut off suddenly as she felt his lips press onto hers, in a gentle kiss. She had never felt anything like it, and she didn't know how to respond to it, except to raise her hand and draw his face closer to hers, so it would never have to end.

It did eventually, but not for some time. They stared at each other as they drew apart, breathing heavily. "Letting you fall wouldn't have been funny the third time around," he murmured, grinning.

"And this was?" she asked.

"Nah," he said. "It's just something I've wanted to do since the moment I first laid eyes on you. I was hoping you wouldn't push me away, even though it is kinda wrong of you to be kissing another guy besides your fiance. But then I think…maybe you do like being a little bad now and then."

"Yeah," agreed Harley. "Maybe I do."

There was nothing else to say, and there was no need to say anything else. Their mouths merged again as the sun shone on them, and the sea parted for them, and they held each other tightly, never wanting to let go.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where is Harley?" asked Dent, looking around the bustling foyer that evening.

"She told me she was just getting changed," replied Ivy. "She's been out on deck all day and came back to her cabin looking very flushed. I don't think the sun can be good for her – it ruins her naturally pale complexion."

"I imagine she'll stay inside a great deal once we're married," said Dent. "She'll have a whole household to manager – servants, staff, social calls. I'm sure she won't have time for sunbathing."

"I'm glad – tanned skin is so unbecoming on a lady," sighed Ivy. "It makes one look common."

"Speaking of common," growled Dent, nodding at the staircase. Ivy turned to see Jack Napier strolling down it, whistling happily. He noticed Dent and Ivy and waved cheerfully.

"Well, how do I clean up?" he asked, heading over to them and smiling.

"Is that my suit?" asked Dent, staring at him.

"Yeah, Harley let me borrow it," he said. "Hope you don't mind. I thought she'd have asked your permission."

"No, she…she didn't," stammered Dent, making a mental note to burn the suit when it was returned, if indeed it ever was, which he doubted. "Because I certainly wouldn't have given it."

"Oh well," said Jack, shrugging. "I'll give it back to you in good condition. Try not to spill the soup at dinner!" he chuckled, slapping Dent on the back, which made his lip twitch in barely-concealed rage.

"And you, Pammie, are looking foxy tonight!" Jack exclaimed, beaming at Ivy. "Can I call you Pammie? Or do you prefer Pamela?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't address me, if at all possible," retorted Ivy, fanning herself angrily. "I do wish Harley would hurry up so we could take our seats at the dinner table – mine is the opposite end from you, Mr. Napier."

"O…K," he said, slowly. He cleared his throat. "I think I'll just…wait by the stairs, if no one minds."

Neither of them even acknowledged that he had spoken, so he wandered back towards the stairs, reaching for a cigarette. "Boring pair of snobs, the both of 'em," he muttered, striking his match against the wooden bannister and lighting his cigarette.

He looked up suddenly and the cigarette fell from his mouth as his jaw dropped. Harley stood on the staircase, dressed in a beautiful red and black evening gown, and the Heart of the Ocean hanging from her neck. She saw him and smiled, a slight blush passing over her cheeks.

"Wow…toots…you look…wow!" he stammered. "I mean…uh…how's it done? What am I supposed to say?"

She grinned. "You're supposed to say I'm looking very beautiful this evening," she murmured.

"Understatement of the century," he retorted, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

"Harley, there you are!" exclaimed Ivy, coming over and ruining the moment. "Finally! Let's go in!"

"Harley, may I…" began Dent, offering her his arm, but Jack had already threaded her arm through his, and the two walked into the dining room together, gazing at each other.

"Or…not…" stammered Dent, staring after them in surprise.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" hissed Ivy.

"I don't know," murmured Dent, his lip twitching in rage again. "But I'm going to find out. I just need to send a quick telegram - excuse me for a moment," he said, heading back up the stairs.

Jack pulled out Harley's chair for her, and then took the seat next to her. "Excuse me, but I do believe that's reserved for Miss Quinzel's fiance," said a familiar voice.

Jack turned to smile at Crane, who was seated on his other side. "Well, I don't see him here. And he didn't say save my seat, so finder's keepers."

Crane stared at him in horror. "You!" he gasped. "Whatever are you doing at the Captain's table?"

"Harley invited me," he retorted, nodding at her. "I saved her from falling overboard."

"And he's spent today teaching me some useful life skills," said Harley, beaming at Jack.

"Oh yes?" said Crane. "I'm sure I can't even begin to imagine what things a man like this could teach you that could possibly be even the slightest bit useful."

"Well, then you ain't got much of an imagination, Craney!" chuckled Jack. Harley giggled, gazing at Jack adoringly. Crane glanced at Ivy, who was glaring at Jack in loathing.

"Sorry I'm late," said Captain Jervis Tetch, taking his seat at the head of the table. "There have been some ice warnings on our present course."

Crane snorted. "Ice? Ice cannot penetrate _Titanic_'s hull. She is completely unsinkable."

"Well, I generally prefer to be safe than sorry," replied Tetch.

"A philosophy I normally admire, but not in this case," retorted Crane. "In fact, Captain, I was wondering if I couldn't request increasing our speed a little, and possibly arriving at our destination early. It would make quite an impression on the papers."

"I think the safety of my passengers is a little more important than impressing the media," replied Tetch.

"The passengers are perfectly safe," snapped Crane. "This ship cannot sink."

"I dunno, Craney – whatever floats can also sink," said Jack, reaching across the table for the bottle of wine.

"Indeed? And what esteemed scientific degree do you have to support this theory?" asked Crane, sarcastically. "Are you actually some expert in naval engineering?"

"Nope," retorted Jack. "But I've seen a body in the water. They stay afloat for a little while unless you weigh 'em down, but even if you don't, they're gonna sink eventually. And then rise again eventually, but hopefully it's far enough downstream at that point that the cops can't pin it on ya," he chuckled.

Everyone stared at him in confusion and horror. Dent returned at that moment, looking around the table in puzzlement. "Is everyone all right?" he asked.

"Mr. Napier was just detailing…his experience in disposing of dead bodies," stammered Ivy, horrified.

"Really?" said Dent, his eyes narrowing. "Well, perhaps he'd be so good as to get out of my seat. Yours is at the far end of the table," he said, pointing to a single chair away from everyone.

Jack shrugged, winking at Harley and heading over to the seat. Dent sat down, taking Harley's hand firmly. The conversation changed to a boring, mundane subject, and Harley looked over at Jack, who was attempting to balance a spoon on the end of his nose. She giggled suddenly, which drew the attention of the others to Jack's antics.

"Anybody seen this trick?" he asked, indicating the spoon. "Now look, I can make this spoon disappear! Watch closely, watch closely, and…it's gone!" he exclaimed.

"I told you he'd be trying to steal the silver!" exclaimed Dent. "Bring it back at once!"

"Geez, calm down!" retorted Jack. "It's just gone up my sleeve. Here," he said, throwing it back onto the table.

"And what is it that you do, Mr. Napier?" asked Ivy, dryly. "Aside from making spoons and bodies disappear. What is your profession?"

"Oh, I'm kinda a Jack-of-all-trades!" chuckled Jack. "I do any kinda dirty work people can't do themselves for one reason or another."

"You're a tradesman?" Ivy asked.

"Er…kinda," he said, slowly. "If other people make messes, I clean 'em up."

"You're a maid?" snorted Crane.

"Not in the way you obviously are, Craney!" chuckled Jack. "This whole ship is just one massive form of compensation for you, ain't it?"

While Crane sputtered to respond, Captain Tetch stood up. "I think you need to leave, Mr. Napier, if you're going to be rude," he said, gently. "I will not tolerate rudeness at my table."

Jack shrugged. "Fine by me. The food probably would've made me sick anyway. I dunno how you rich people eat fish eggs and snails and all that crap. I mean, you have all the money in the world, and you choose to eat garbage! Just crazy if you ask me!" he chuckled, standing up and heading out of the dining room.

Harley watched him leave, picked at her food for a few minutes, and then put down her fork. "I've just got a headache, Mother," she said. "I'm going to go lie down in my cabin, if that's all right."

"Let me escort you," said Dent, as the whole table stood up for her departure.

"No, that's fine, Harvey," said Harley. "I wouldn't want to trouble you. You stay here and finish your meal."

She left the room, with Dent glaring after her. Several minutes later, a member of the crew came up to Dent. "Excuse me, sir, there's a telegram for you," he said, handing Dent a piece of paper.

Dent opened it and read it. Then he stood up suddenly. "Captain, I'm going to need the ship's police to help me find and arrest Mr. Napier," he said.

"Oh…yes, of course, Mr. Dent," said Captain Tetch, beckoning a member of the crew over. "May I ask why?"

Dent held up the telegram. "Jack Napier is wanted in Gotham City," he muttered. "For murder."


	8. Chapter 8

Harley left the dining room to see Jack at the top of the stairs, leaning casually against the bannister. He grinned at her. "I was hoping you'd be able to get away," he said, kissing her hand again.

"Well, it was stifling in there without you," said Harley, smiling at him. "I felt like I was being suffocated. They're all so tedious and boring. Not like you, Jack. You're fun, and you make me smile, and…you make me feel alive. If I marry Harvey, I'm going to feel like I'm dying slowly for the rest of my life. I don't want to condemn myself to that."

"Then don't marry him," he said, shrugging. "They can't hold a gun to your head and force you, can they?"

"Well, they…they can…uh…" stammered Harley. Then she shook her head slowly. "No. They can't."

"That's the spirit!" he chuckled. "It's like I always say, kid. Live to make yourself smile. If you ain't smiling, you ain't got no one to blame but yourself."

She smiled at him, and then took his hand. "Come on," she said, leading him up the stairs and down the hall. "There's something I want to show you."

They entered first class, and Jack whistled, looking around the corridor. "Wow. This don't even look like a ship anymore!"

"Neither does this," said Harley, opening the door to her cabin. The suite of rooms looked like something that belonged in a fancy hotel.

Jack whistled again. "They don't call it first class for nothing, huh?" he asked.

"Nah uh," she agreed, pulling him inside and shutting the door. "Help yourself to a drink," she said, gesturing to the bar. "I'm just gonna get changed quickly."

"Ok. Changed for what?" he asked. She smiled but didn't respond, heading off to her bedroom and shutting the door.

Jack shrugged, pouring a glass of scotch. "A guy could get used to living like this," he said, looking around the room. "Though I'm not sure how many guys you'd have to bump off to earn this kinda dough. Probably gotta assassinate a billionaire. Or maybe even two billionaires, like that guy who bumped off the Waynes. He musta earned a pretty penny…"

He stopped talking as Harley emerged from her bedroom, wearing a thin robe and her necklace. "Getting ready for bed, huh?" he asked. "Probably a good idea – it's getting late…"

She stood in front of him, smiling, and then slowly pulled the robe open and off, revealing that she was wearing nothing else but the Heart of the Ocean. Jack stared at her. "Uh…kid…" he stammered.

"I want to lie here and pose naked for you," she whispered. "And I want you to draw me like that French girl."

She went to lie down on the sofa, trembling. "Uh…you know I don't draw, right?" asked Jack, slowly. "I mean, this is gonna look terrible. Stick figures at best…"

"That's not the point," interrupted Harley. "The point is I'm…revealing myself to you. All of myself. I've…never wanted to reveal it to anyone else before. But I…I love you, Jack."

She raised her arms in what she hoped was a seductive pose. Jack whistled again. "Damn, I'm a lucky guy," he murmured, grinning.

She smiled as he reached for a pencil and paper and began to draw. Haunting music played in the background as the camera lingered on glimpses of Harley's body, revealing enough of it to be tantalizing, but not enough to be explicit, making it a truly erotic piece of film-making.

"Well, that's as good as it's gonna get," said Jack at last, holding up the drawing to reveal a smiling stick figure with a necklace, long hair, and breasts.

Harley grinned, reaching for her robe. "I love it," she murmured, coming over to kiss him. She undid her necklace, handing it to him. "I want you to have it as payment," she said.

"The drawing ain't worth that much, kid," he laughed.

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But what you've done for me is. You've set me free, Jack. You've saved me. You've given me the strength and courage of my own convictions, and you've given me hope for a better life, a happy life…with you." She squeezed his hand. "When this ship docks, I want to get off with you. If you…want me," she added, blushing.

He stared at her. "That a joke?" he whispered. "Of course I want you, kiddo! What's crazy is the idea that you wanna be with me!"

"I know it's crazy," she whispered. "That's why I trust it."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately and pressing her back down on the sofa. They suddenly heard a knock on the door. "Harley? Are you awake?"

"It's Harvey!" gasped Harley. "Quick, get down!"

They rolled under the sofa as the door opened and footsteps entered the room. They went past where Jack and Harley were lying, unnoticed in the dim light, and headed toward the bedroom door, knocking on it. "Harley? I need to speak to you."

Jack looked at Harley. "On three, we run," he whispered, holding up his fingers. "One…two…three!" he cried, rolling out from under the sofa and racing out the door, pulling Harley behind him. They rushed past some officers who had accompanied Dent, and who now shouted at each other and began to pursue them.

"Where are we going?" asked Harley.

"I dunno – down!" he cried, racing into an elevator and pressing the down button. They descended, laughing, and emerged onto the lower decks. Some patrolling officers there saw them and ran toward them, so they headed off in the opposite direction. "Geez, we're popular all of a sudden!" chuckled Jack. "Maybe they've heard how I'm a famous artist now and want my autograph!"

They turned a corner, ducking through a door and waiting for the pursuit to pass by, trying to control their laughter so they wouldn't be heard. "It's chilly in here," whispered Harley, her breath showing in the frosty air.

"No need to heat the cargo hold," said Jack, nodding around. "Nothing in here's gonna notice it."

He whistled. "Wow, look at that car! I've heard of big time gangsters having rides like that! Always dreamed of having one of my own!"

He went over to it, examining it closely. He turned to Harley and grinned. "Whaddya think, kid? Ya think that rock you gave me might buy me one of these?"

"Maybe," agreed Harley. "Harvey paid a pretty handsome price for it."

"I can see us now," he said, opening the door. "Cruising through the streets of Gotham or Metropolis or wherever, everyone gazing at us enviously, at the lucky guy with the hot car and the hot broad inside…" He smiled at her. "You wanna take it for a test drive?"

She nodded, and they climbed into the back. "Roomy leather interior," commented Jack. "I bet it's real leather too! Boy, you'd never be uncomfortable in this thing! Let's check out the gears!" he said, leaning forward to examine the front seat. "What kinda make is this thing?"

"Um…Jack…I'm really glad you're excited about the car," said Harley, slowly. "But I was kinda hoping we could resume…what were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by Harvey."

"Yeah, yeah, in a second, toots," he said. "This is a fine piece of machinery. You don't come across those every day."

"And you come across people like me?" she asked, a little hurt.

He turned to smile at her. "You should never criticize a guy who's got an interest in cars, toots," he murmured. "A guy who knows how to take care of a vehicle knows how to take care of a few other things too. For instance, did you know there's a couple guys in Milwaukee who are building a motorbike they're calling a Harley?"

"No, I didn't," replied Harley.

"Now, I don't know much about motorbikes," he continued, shrugging. "But if they're anything like cars, I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to handle my Harley. You let me know if I'm revving her up right," he murmured, pressing her down in the backseat.

The camera panned away from the car, up to the prow of the ship, cutting through icy waters, and then to the helm, where Captain Tetch said to a crewmember, "There have been reports of icebergs. Try to keep her at a steady pace, and double the watch. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks. Mr. Crane is adamant that this ship is unsinkable, but why tempt fate? That would be nonsensical, you know, as nonsensical as the fishes deliberately entering the crocodile's smiling jaws."

"Yes, sir," said the man, saluting.

The camera panned back below decks to the car, the windows of which were steamed up. Inside, Harley lay naked and curled up in Jack's arms, covered with his coat, as he leaned against the window, smoking a cigarette. "How you feeling?" whispered Jack, stroking her hair back from her face.

She smiled up at him. "Happy," she whispered. "Very happy."

"Warm enough now, huh?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she said.

"And no more complaining about cars, huh?" he added, grinning.

She grinned back. "Nah uh," she whispered, kissing him. "You've done a very good job riding your Harley."

They suddenly heard the door of the cargo hold open, and voices. "They have to be in here – search everywhere," snapped one of the guards.

"Sir, the car," whispered one of the men. "Look at the windows."

"Right, come out, both of you!" shouted the guard. There was no response for about a minute, and the guard nodded at his companion to open the door. He obeyed, to reveal an empty backseat. Jack and Harley had already snuck out the other door, racing onto the deck.

"I'm cold again!" laughed Harley, as her breath showed in the frosty air.

He hugged her tightly, kissing her repeatedly. "Still cold?" he asked.

"Nah uh," she whispered, beaming at him and looking around. "It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Nothing but the water and the stars and…that giant iceberg straight ahead," he stammered, pointing.

"They've seen it," said Harley, shrugging.

"Then why ain't we turning away from it?" he asked.

"We are, just…really slowly," said Harley, her eyes narrowing in concern. "I think we're gonna hit it."

The ship slid past the iceberg, and Jack and Harley looked up at the massive chunk of ice. They suddenly heard a loud crunching, squeaking noise that resounded through the frozen night air, and bits of ice fell onto the deck. Jack pulled Harley out of the way of the falling ice, clutching her tightly against him.

"We hit it," he whispered.

"It…it doesn't matter," said Harley, firmly. "Ice can't harm this ship. That's what Mr. Crane said."

"I know what he said," retorted Jack. "But that didn't sound good to me."

"Captain, we've grazed the iceberg," whispered the crewman to Captain Tetch, who was staring in horror at the massive sheet of ice they'd just passed. "The hull's been breached."

"What's going on up here?" demanded Crane, entering the room.

Captain Tetch turned to him. "The hull's been breached," he whispered.

"Impossible!" snorted Crane.

"You can communicate with the engine room yourself, sir," retorted the crewman. "Water's pouring in at an alarming rate."

"Shut the water-tight doors!" snapped Crane.

"We already have, sir," replied the crewmember. "It's not doing any good."

Crane grabbed the telephone used to communicate with the engine room. "Hello? Yes, give me the raw data. How big is the hole? I see. And you've isolated the…I see. How long do you estimate…I see."

His face had grown more paler with each passing word, and now he put the phone down, turning to face Captain Tetch and trembling. "The ship is sinking," he whispered. "In two hours' time, we'll all be at the bottom of the ocean."

Captain Tetch nodded, slowly processing the information. "Well, Mr. Crane," he murmured. "I think you'll be getting your headlines after all."


	9. Chapter 9

The word _Intermission_ appeared on the screen in big letters, bringing the Arkham inmates back to reality. "Well, how's that for edge of your seat excitement?" asked Joker, turning to his audience and beaming. "Everyone liking it so far?"

Everyone stared at him incredulously, lost for words. "I'll take that as a yes!" he chuckled, standing up. "There's gonna be a twenty minute break now, and there are refreshments in the cafeteria. I'll be heading there now if anyone wants to join me or discuss the film. C'mon, Harley," he said, as Harley leapt to her feet and skipped out of the room after him.

Nobody else moved for about two minutes. They all just stared at the screen in shock. "Where…the hell did that all come from?!" shrieked Poison Ivy at last. "I mean, I remember doing the scenes and stuff, but it didn't…there's no way it looked that good at the time! A computer can't make that much difference!"

"Well, you can make entire movies on the computer now," said Crane. "So I suppose it's not a complete surprise…"

"But it's like a real, professional movie!" exclaimed Ivy. "I just…didn't expect J to make a tasteful film! I might actually be sad when his character dies!"

"I guess he wouldn't be J if he did what we expected," muttered Two-Face.

"I need to go talk to him," snapped Ivy, standing up. "I need to figure out his stupid game! We heard him and Harley doing that sex scene with the whoopie cushion, for God's sake!"

Ivy stormed into the cafeteria with Bruce following her, where Joker and Harley were chatting over glasses of champagne. "I think people really underestimate the idea of using computers to make movies, and it's understandable really, because a lotta people abuse the concept," Joker was saying. "As long as you don't sacrifice storytelling for special effects, technology can be such a blessing when making a movie. A special effect is just a tool, after all. But a special effect without a story is a pretty boring thing…"

"J, why was the sex scene so tame?" demanded Ivy.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Pammie!" chuckled Joker. "I know you wanted to see some hot, kinky clown sex, but we were just kidding around in rehearsals! The way all actors do! Maybe it'll be in the blooper reel for the DVD!"

"It seems unusual for you to make a serious movie, Mr. Joker," said Bruce.

"Well, I don't like to be predictable, Brucie!" laughed Joker. "Being fun is all about being spontaneous! That's why the Bat ain't ever any fun. He's like an old shoe!"

"I'm sure he has a wide and varied routine," muttered Bruce.

"Anyway, are you enjoying it, Pammie, despite the absence of clown sex?" asked Joker, grinning at her.

She glared at him. "Yes!" she snapped. "And I don't like that I am! So tell me what the game is!"

"No game, Pammie!" he chuckled. "Don't you think the Joker making a quality, tragic movie is funny enough? I sure do! How about you boys?" he asked as the others entered the room. "Liking the movie?"

"Why aren't I in it?" demanded Nygma. "We filmed my scenes!"

"You will be, Eddie, just be patient!" laughed Joker, clapping him on the back. "I know we filmed this whole subplot with you going around solving riddles for people on the ship, but in the end I had to cut that since it took too much time away from me, the character people actually care about. Plus, y'know, it was stupid and boring, like you. But if I don't have the audience in tears for some of the upcoming death scenes, I'm doing something wrong!"

"You're putting in death scenes?" demanded Ivy. "You're actually going to kill everyone, like in the real movie?"

Joker tapped his nose. "Not everyone, Pammie," he said. "You'll just have to wait and see. Yes sir, I think it's a definite Oscar contender this year!" he chuckled.

"So if you're really gonna distribute it, are we getting any money for it?" demanded Two-Face. There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the inmates.

"Oh, yeah, well, see, the thing about that is, Harvey, that you signed some handy contracts here," said Joker, reaching into his pocket. "That gave over complete rights to all aspects of the movie and any money made from it or its related merchandise to me."

"I didn't sign that!" snapped Two-Face, grabbing it from him.

"It was the fine print in your costume agreements," chuckled Joker. "That's why you should always read the small print! But remember when I was on my sugar high and asking about action figure rights and how we never see any money from that? Well, this will ensure that every action figure, T-shirt, and assorted product I sell in relation to this film will result in a handsome profit for me! I've already got a company in China working on getting some child labor to mock up some cheap toys. Y'know, collapsible models of the _Titanic _that you can split in half, survival of the fittest style board games, cuddly animals for the kiddies that didn't actually appear in the movie, stuff like that."

"Joker, you can't run a business from inside a mental asylum," snapped Dr. Leland. "And certainly not one that relies on child labor."

"Aw, but I'll give the kiddies a free toy to keep!" protested Joker.

Dr. Leland sighed, checking her watch. "Time to resume the film, isn't it?"

"It sure is!" exclaimed Joker. "Oh, you guys are just gonna love the second half! It's even better than the first half, if I do say so myself! And keep your eyes open for a familiar face toward the end of the movie – blink and you'll miss him, but he's there! It's not like I could ever make a movie without him, after all!" he chuckled, heading back into the Rec Room with Harley following.


	10. Chapter 10

The film started up again to Jack and Harley running across the deck. "We have to tell Harvey and Mother about the iceberg!" exclaimed Harley. "They won't know anything's wrong…"

"Harley, there you are!" cried Dent, as they ran into him on the stairs. "I've been looking for you everywhere. And you too, Mr. Napier," he muttered, eyes narrowed.

"Harvey, where's Mother?" asked Harley. "Something terrible has happened! We've hit a…what are you doing?!" she exclaimed, as two men suddenly seized ahold of Jack.

"Jack Napier, you're under arrest for murder in Gotham City," said Dent, calmly, as the men began to search him. One of them pulled the Heart of the Ocean out of his pocket, and held it out to Dent. "And theft," he added, taking it from him. "Take him away and lock him up somewhere."

"He didn't steal that!" snapped Harley. "I gave it to him!"

Dent turned to look at her. "You have no right to give away my engagement present," he growled. "Especially not to some common criminal."

"I ain't a common criminal!" snapped Jack. "I'm a damn good one!"

"Indeed, you must be, to have stolen Harley's heart," muttered Dent. "But I'm reclaiming my property from you, Mr. Napier. All of it," he said, taking Harley's arm firmly.

"Harvey, you have to listen!" cried Harley. "The ship's hit an iceberg…"

"I'm sure the crew have everything under control," interrupted Dent. "This ship is unsinkable, after all, Harley, so don't worry your pretty head about it. I said take him away!" he roared at the men.

They dragged Jack off, struggling and looking back at Harley. She was pulled away from him and dragged back to her cabin. "Harvey, please…" she began, but he suddenly struck her across the face.

"How dare you give away my property to that filthy criminal, you little slut?!" he roared. "You know how much this cost, you dumb bitch?! Do you?!" he shouted, holding the necklace up.

"I don't care!" she shrieked. "Money doesn't matter to me anymore, Harvey! Jack's given me something far more precious than that! And I am not going to marry you, do you understand?!"

"Who are you going to marry then?!" he demanded. "That penniless thief?! That murderer?!"

Harley used to be afraid of his temper. But she wasn't anymore. "Yes," she said, firmly. "I love him."

Dent could not have looked more enraged. He grabbed her by the arms, so tightly that she could feel bruises forming, and shook her roughly. "Listen to me, you little whore!" he hissed. "I don't know what he's done to you, although I have a pretty good idea, you filthy slut! But I will not let that disgusting excuse for a human being best me! I will not lose you to him!"

"You already have," she retorted.

He raised his hand to strike her again when there was a knock on the door. "Excuse me, sir, but the captain's ordering everyone to put on their life vests and come out onto the deck," said a member of the crew. "Just a routine safety check – nothing to worry about."

"Thank you," snapped Dent. "My fiancee and I will be out momentarily."

"He's lying," said Harley as the door shut. "We saw the iceberg hit, and we heard it scrape the hull. Something is terribly wrong with this ship."

"You're going to learn to hold your tongue after we're married, or suffer the consequences," muttered Dent, seizing two life-jackets and tossing one to Harley. "My wife will be seen and not heard."

"And she's not going to be me," snapped Harley.

He looked ready to hit her again, when another knock came on the door. "Harley, Harvey, I've just heard the news!" exclaimed Ivy. "What's all this about going on deck? It's after midnight!"

"It's a routine safety check, Pamela," snapped Dent. "I'm sure it'll be over fairly quickly and we can all head to bed."

He dragged Harley out of the cabin, with Ivy following. They joined the people milling about in the first class foyer, talking amongst themselves in puzzlement. Harley looked around for some way to escape and find Jack when she saw Crane moving about the foyer, indicating to passengers who weren't wearing a life vest to put one on.

"Mr. Crane," said Harley in a low voice, catching his arm. "I saw us hit the iceberg. Is it…is it serious?"

He looked at her. "Yes," he said, quietly. "In two hours time, this ship will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

Dent and Ivy stared at him. "But…but I thought it was unsinkable!" gasped Ivy.

Crane smiled grimly. "So did I, dear lady," he murmured. "So did I. Now we must get you on the deck and into a lifeboat as quickly as possible. Come along," he said, taking Ivy's hand.

While Dent was distracted processing the horror of the situation, Harley wrenched her arm out of his grip and dashed off down the hall, ignoring the shouts after her. "Jack!" she called, racing down the corridors and looking around desperately. "Jack, where are you?"

Far below in the officers' quarters, Jack Napier was being handcuffed to a pole. "Captain's orders – get back on deck and help the women and children into the lifeboats," said one of the officers. "This ship is sinking, and we have to get as many passengers as possible off it before it does."

"Wait, so this ship is sinking and you're gonna leave me handcuffed here?!" demanded Jack. "Why doncha gimme a fighting chance like the rest of these people?!"

The man looked at him, sneering. "You're a criminal, not a person. I don't see any reason why we shouldn't let you drown like the rat you are. A man like you would probably shove a child out of the way to take their space in the lifeboat. It's better that we don't risk a life that can be saved against your worthless one."

They left him, slamming the door shut. "I hate humanity," muttered Jack, struggling against his handcuffs. "If I live through this, I swear to God, I'm gonna become a homicidal maniac with no regard for human life and wreak chaos and mayhem on an unsuspecting city night after night. Just you wait."

He heard a shuddering as the ship listed suddenly, sending furniture crashing toward him. "Oh, this is not good," he muttered, as water began pouring under the door.


	11. Chapter 11

"Jack!" shrieked Harley, fighting her way past crowds of rushing people who had begun to panic as the water began seeping into the ship. They were all headed toward the stairs to get out onto the deck, while Harley hurried to get deeper into the ship. "Jack!" she screamed, desperate to be heard over the growing roar of the water.

"Harley?" shouted a familiar voice. Harley waded through the water and forced open the door, where she saw Jack handcuffed to the pipe in ankle-deep water. He beamed at her.

"Are you a sight for sore eyes, kiddo!" he exclaimed. "C'mon, get me outta this!"

"How can I do that?" she demanded.

"Well, unless you happen to have the keys on you, find something to break it with!" retorted Jack. Harley nodded, racing out of the room and looking around wildly. There was an axe by the door encased in glass to be broken in case of emergencies, and Harley thought grimly that this was definitely one of those times. With a cry, she smashed her fist through the glass, cutting her knuckles. She barely noticed the pain to her hand and wrist, seizing the axe and wading back into the room.

"Woah, woah, woah, have you ever used one of those before?" asked Jack.

"No," she said, raising it to strike at the handcuffs.

Jack sighed, shutting his eyes. "Nice knowing you, hands," he muttered.

"Have a little faith in me!" retorted Harley, bringing the axe down. It crashed against the chains, but they held firm.

"Good – accuracy is more important than force!" shouted Jack. "Do exactly what you just did again!"

Harley raised the axe again when the ship jolted sideways, causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards into the water. She heard Jack laughing hysterically as she struggled to her feet, and she glared at him. "I might miss on purpose this time," she muttered.

She swung the axe at the chain, and it broke in two, freeing Jack. "I'll thank you not to laugh at me…" she began, but she was cut off as he seized her in a passionate kiss.

"I love you," he whispered. "And not just because you didn't cut off my hands."

She beamed, kissing him. "Now c'mon, we gotta get outta here," he said, as more water spilled into the room. They waded out into the flooded corridor, knocking aside floating furniture and struggling up the stairs that water sloshed down like a waterfall.

They reached the first class foyer at last, which was empty except for Jonathan Crane, standing by the fireplace with a drink in his hand, and no life vest.

"Mr. Crane!" called Harley. He turned.

"Miss Quinzel, you must get on deck immediately!" he exclaimed. "Get yourself into a lifeboat, for goodness sake!"

"Aren't you coming too?" she asked.

He shook his head, sipping his drink. "No, I…I don't deserve to be saved," he murmured. "I…I failed you – I failed everyone. I built this ship to be unsinkable, and I failed at that. My whole life has been one long series of failures, and it's only right that it ends now, in the crown jewel of my failure. An unsinkable ship that sank. What a tragic joke."

"Hey, at least it's a joke!" said Jack, shrugging. "And it's a joke that's gonna be remembered. I mean, sure, you're gonna be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, but y'know, sometimes comedy requires sacrifices. And say you actually had built a really great ship that didn't sink. So what? You would have done the job you were supposed to do. You would have had like fifteen minutes of fame and then everyone would've forgotten all about you. But people are gonna remember the _Titanic_ for centuries to come. See, the mistakes and the failures are remembered. Same goes for people. If you wanna leave your mark, you gotta be a screw-up in the eyes of the world. People tend to remember the people who break the laws rather than the millions who follow 'em."

Crane stared at him. "You think a bunch of selfish, vainglorious thoughts about how memorable this night is going to be in terms of history can erase the guilt of being responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocent people?"

"Well, it would for me!" chuckled Jack.

Crane was silent for a moment. "Yes, well, all right, it might," he snapped.

The ship jolted again, and Harley fell back into Jack's arms. He steadied her while Crane clutched the mantlepiece. "Get on deck at once," he said, firmly. "And good luck to you both."

He nodded at Jack, and they raced off up the stairs, leaving Crane alone.

Once on deck, they forded their way through the screaming mass of panicking people, heading toward the front of the ship. As they approached a lifeboat, they saw Captain Tetch there helping women and children onto it, while officers held the men back. "Harley!" shrieked a voice, as Ivy spotted her. She stood up in the lifeboat, causing it to shake precariously. "That's my daughter!" she cried, pointing.

Harley was pulled to the front, but she didn't let go of Jack's hand, and he was pulled along with her. "Harley, get in the boat!" cried Ivy, gesturing wildly.

"I'm not leaving Jack!" shrieked Harley.

"Harley, get in the boat!" roared Dent, who was standing next to them.

"Get in the boat, kid," repeated Jack gently. She shook her head.

"Not without you," she whispered.

"They're not going to let men on," snapped Dent. "I've tried, believe me. Mr. Napier and I will have to take our chances here."

"And I'm sure you can always row the boats back to pick us up, right?" said Jack. "C'mon now, kiddo, don't be silly. Do the sensible thing and get in the boat."

Harley nodded slowly. She kissed Jack tenderly and he helped her climb into the lifeboat. It began to lower, and Harley locked eyes with Jack, realizing this was probably the last time she was ever going to see him, the man who had changed her life so completely, who had saved her life, who had made it worth living. It wouldn't be worth living again without him. If he was going to die, she was going to die with him.

She made the decision instantly, standing up in the boat and climbing up the side of the ship, ignoring her mother's protests. She reached the railing and climbed back onto the deck, smiling at the look of surprise on Jack's face.

"You didn't really think I'd do the sensible thing, did you, Jack?" she whispered.

He grinned, seizing her in his arms and kissing her repeatedly. The ship jolted again, creaking horribly as it began to break apart.

"Harley, you stupid little fool!" shouted Dent, but Jack turned to punch him in the face suddenly.

"Don't talk about my fiancee that way," he growled.

Dent staggered backward under the force of the blow, and Jack grabbed Harley's arm, racing off through the crowd of people.

"Fiancee?" asked Harley, running after him.

"Well, I assume after you climb back onto a sinking ship for a guy, the least you can do is marry him!" he chuckled. "I got you a real pretty engagement present too!"

He reached into his pocket and held up the Heart of the Ocean. "Pick-pocketed it from your ex," he said, nodding back at Dent. He stopped suddenly, kneeling down and holding it out to her. "So whaddya say, kiddo? If we live through this, you wanna marry me?"

Harley grinned. "You picked a helluva time for a proposal," she whispered. "Of course I will, Jack!"

He stood up and she leapt into his arms, kissing him again. The ship creaked again, cracks appearing along the deck as the panic increased. "If we're gonna live through this, we gotta get moving," breathed Jack. "Head for the prow. When this thing splits apart, that's gonna go down last."

They forded their way through panicking passengers, reaching the prow at last, and the railing where Harley had tried to jump, and where Jack had taught her to fly. Jack helped her climb over the railing, clutching her tightly. "This thing's gonna go into the air," he whispered. "Hold on until it hits the water, and then swim as fast as you can away from it, because it's gonna pull everything down with it."

Harley nodded, holding him tightly. "Are we gonna live through this?" she whispered.

"I dunno, kiddo," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I dunno much of anything. Only that I love you."

She beamed. "I love you too, Jack," she whispered, pressing her lips gently against his.

Captain Tetch had loaded all the women and children on deck into the lifeboats, watched them sail away, and then slowly made his way back to the helm. He stood there, watching the water rise and press against the glass. "'You can really have no notion how delightful it will be when they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea,'" he murmured. "But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance - said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance."

The glass shattered, and the water surged in.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack and Harley heard a huge crack, and watched from the railing as the ship split in two. The back of the ship slid into the freezing ocean, while the front rose steadily into the water, making the prow of the ship perpendicular to the ocean. Harley stared straight down into the foaming abyss of the waves, feeling Jack's heart beating against her own. She watched in horror as others clinging to the ship fell down into the seething water, screaming. One of the ship's smokestacks broke loose, rattling down the slippery deck and crushing a familiar figure.

"Really?!" roared Edward Nygma suddenly from the audience, breaking in on the film as he stood up angrily. "You kept me dying in?! Nobody even knows who my character is! How are they expected to feel any sympathy for me?!"

"Believe me, Eddie, even when people do know your character, nobody sympathizes with you," retorted Joker. "Now shut up and stop ruining the dramatic tension! We're just building to the climax!" he chuckled.

The front end of the ship began to sink, and the bubbling water came up fast. "Get ready to swim, sweetheart," whispered Jack. "And be sure to take a deep breath."

She nodded, holding him tightly. She drew in a last breath of air, shutting her eyes, and then was plunged into icy water, so cold that she gasped from the shock. Her brain was too stunned to think, but her body instinctively kicked out away from the ship, swimming with all her might out toward the open ocean. She could hear splashing all around her, and looked around desperately for Jack.

Suddenly, someone grabbed hold of her, pushing her down in the water in their effort to stay afloat. Harley struggled against him, choking, and was suddenly released when Jack punched the man in the face. "I got you, sweetheart," he gasped, dragging her over to a piece of debris.

There was a pretty redhead lying on a broken door, holding the hand of an attractive young man in the water and telling him she would never let go. "Good, so you'll die together, now get offa that!" snapped Jack, shoving them both into the water and then helping Harley onto the door. "Survival of the fittest, y'see," he muttered, climbing onto the door with her.

Harley nodded, cuddling against him and shivering. "I don't blame you for being cold now!" he chuckled, stroking her hair as their breath showed in the icy air.

Harley forced a smile, teeth chattering. "The…the lifeboats are gonna be back to pick us up soon, right?" she whispered.

"Sure they are, kiddo," he murmured. "Just hang on, ok?"

She nodded again, curling up against him. But as the time passed and as others in the water gradually stopped splashing, Harley couldn't help but feel like the lifeboats weren't coming back. "Jack?" she whispered, looking up at him.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I…I love you," she whispered.

He looked at her. "You don't talk like this is the end," he whispered. "It ain't the end, you hear me? You're gonna live, Harley. You're gonna die a long time from now, as an old woman, warm in your bed."

Tears trailed from her eyes, freezing on her cheeks. He wiped them away gently. "I promise you," he whispered. "I promise you, you're gonna live. You're gonna live a life everyone's gonna be jealous of, full of smiles and laughter and fun."

"With you, Jack," she whispered, taking his hand. It was freezing cold. "I'll…I'll never let you go."

He smiled, kissing her tenderly. And they waited.

The air grew colder. Harley could no longer feel her fingers. She could no longer feel much of anything, but she still held Jack's hand tight in hers.

"Jack?" she whispered. There was no response. "Jack?" she said urgently, sitting up. Jack's eyes were shut, and he appeared to be sleeping. Tears came to Harley's eyes. "Jack?" she whispered, kissing him desperately. "Jack, please, wake up. Please don't leave me. Please…"

There was not a single dry eye among the Arkham inmates, or anyone else in the audience. Even Bruce Wayne sat there, wondering why this stupid movie was affecting him this much. It wasn't even real, and even if it was, the characters were based on his enemies. He shouldn't feel sorry for them. But then death was never something Bruce was able to deal with comfortably. He was almost about to shed a tear himself, when suddenly the heartbreaking scene was interrupted by the glare of a headlight shining on Jack and Harley.

And then Jack sat up. "Christ, what the hell is that?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Jack, you're alive!" gasped Harley, hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, I was just trying to get some shut-eye," retorted Jack. "No such luck," he said, shielding his eyes from the glaring light.

The light turned out to be coming from a dark, sleek plane hovering above them. A plane in the shape of a bat.

And then a figure in a bat costume climbed down the rope ladder hanging from the plane. The headlight shone around him like a halo as he held out his hand to Jack and Harley.

"Batman?" gasped Harley. "I thought you were just an urban legend!"

Jack chuckled. "He's the hero we deserve…and the one we need right now!" he exclaimed, as Batman helped Harley and Jack into the plane, and then flew off from the wreckage. They watched the debris getting farther and farther away, and Harley let out a sigh of relief, cuddling into Jack's arms.

"Thanks, Batman," said Jack. "I dunno what we would have done without you. Frozen to death, probably."

Batman looked at him. "I'm returning you to Gotham City to face justice for murder," he snapped. "It's likely you'll be given the electric chair."

"Well, gee, then what was the point of rescuing me?" asked Jack, puzzled. "You might as well have let me freeze to death if you're just gonna electrocute me later."

"That wouldn't have been justice," growled Batman. "I don't have the power to decide your fate – that's for a court of law. Not the random laws of nature, like an iceberg."

"Well, shouldn't you have saved a lotta other people too?" asked Harley. "I mean, hundreds of innocent people did just drown and freeze to death."

Batman said nothing. "I'm Batman," he muttered.

Jack and Harley shared a look. "O…K…well, we'll just…choke on the Heart of the Ocean, Batman!" shouted Jack suddenly, throwing the necklace around his neck and pulling tight. Batman gasped for breath, struggling against the chain, but it wasn't the first time Jack had strangled someone, and soon Batman's body slumped to the floor of the plane.

"Good riddance," sniffed Harley, as Jack took the controls.

"Guess you really are flying now, huh, sweets?" chuckled Jack, as he turned the plane toward the sun rising on the horizon. "Where to, pumpkin pie?"

Harley smiled. "Anywhere," she said, taking his hand again. "As long as it's with you, Jack."

As daylight broke, they kissed with the sun washing over them. The final shot was Batman's body being dropped into the ocean, and Jack's voice saying, "I'll never let go, Bats! Oops!"

This was followed by Jack and Harley's laughter, and the theme song of "My Smile Will Go On" sung by Poison Ivy began playing as the plane disappeared into the horizon and the screen went black.

Joker and Harley's laughter echoed their characters' as the lights came up and they turned to see the rest of the audience, gaping at the screen in shock. "Well? What did everyone think?" asked Joker, beaming.

"You…you ruined it!" shrieked Ivy. "We told you no comedy!"

"Well, I had to have _some _comedy," retorted Joker. "I'm the Joker, for Christ's sake!"

"It was actually a pretty good movie up until that last bit," admitted Crane. "Why didn't you stick to the traditional ending?"

"Because the original ending is crap!" exclaimed Joker. "'I'll never let go, Jack!' Then bam, instantly let go! That ain't love! And test audiences didn't like the idea of Harley dragging around Jack's frozen corpse for the rest of her life, so we had to change that ending too. So the only way I saw to make it a real love story was to let Jack live. And the only way that was gonna happen was with the help of a superhero."

"There was no Batman in 1912!" snapped Tetch. "Jet airplanes didn't even exist in 1912!"

"Look, if you're gonna quibble with every little historical inaccuracy and pick apart all the plotholes, you're just gonna ruin the movie for yourself," retorted Joker.

"_You _ruined the movie!" shrieked Ivy. "It makes utterly no sense now!"

"Neither did the original!" protested Joker. "I'm just keeping in the spirit of that one! It's meant to be this whole tragic love story, but after the guy she loves freezes to death for her, this dame goes on to marry some other guy, have a buncha kids with him, and then eventually dies as an old woman. And then she has a vision of the afterlife where she's with the guy who froze to death. So what about the poor husband? In what way did she love either of those two guys? If she really loved Jack, she would never have married another guy. I tell ya, if I froze to death for a dame, I'd expect her to only love me forever and ever and not even think of looking at another guy. It's what Harley would do, ain't it, Harl?"

"It sure is, Mr. J," said Harley, firmly. "And I would have dragged your frozen body around with me for the rest of my life too."

"I know you would, baby," he said, kissing her. "Some people just don't seem to understand what love is. Anyway, my ending is much better. What could possibly be more romantic than strangling Batman, and then dumping his body into the ocean together? Not a goddamn thing. And it makes a lot more sense than carrying a really valuable necklace around with you for decades only to drop it into the ocean at the end of the movie for no reason. I mean, she could have given it to her grandkids to finance their college education, the selfish bitch! Honestly, that woman has clearly never learned the meaning of love. That's the message of the original movie if anything is."

"How dare you, of all people, presume to lecture anyone about the meaning of love?" demanded Tetch.

"Hey, puddin' knows all about love!" snapped Harley. "There's no reason to personally attack him just because you didn't care for the movie!"

"If it hadn't been so good up until the ending, nobody would care," growled Two-Face. "Because up until that point, it was a beautiful, tragic love story, with some social commentary about how society treats criminals and the less fortunate."

"And I thought the musings on the meaning of success and failure during my final scene was also particularly striking," agreed Crane. "Although that owes a great deal to my fantastic performance…"

"Why wasn't I in it?" demanded Nygma.

"You were, Eddie – you died," retorted Joker. "That's all anybody ever wants you to do, in real life and in fiction."

"I just can't believe what you've done!" shrieked Ivy. "You actually got us to believe you could make a really good, serious movie, and then you go and pull a stunt like that for the ending! It's not funny – it's just annoying! That's like two hours of my life I'm never gonna get back! I haven't been so angry over a movie since I saw _Batman and Robin_!"

"Wow, geez, Pammie, that's a bit harsh, doncha think?" asked Joker, looking genuinely hurt. "C'mon, this is a better movie than that…"

"Maybe so," admitted Ivy, and there was a murmur of agreement. "But I'm still angry!"

"Well, let's get our patron's opinion," said Joker, turning to Bruce Wayne. "What did you think, Brucie?"

"I think…you should all do this again sometime," said Bruce, sincerely. "It was a good effort, and it kept you occupied with something else rather than causing trouble in Gotham. I'd actually consider this a resounding success, Dr. Leland."

"Do you think there's any chance for a general release?" asked Joker. "It'd really mean a lot to me as a first time director if the public could see me in a different light. Y'know, not just the homicidal clown, but a guy with a passion for movies."

Dr. Leland nodded slowly. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Great, 'cause I made a lotta copies!" said Joker, pulling a curtain aside to reveal several stacks of film. "You could market it with my name and everything – that'd probably generate a lot of publicity. And the profits could go towards helping out the asylum."

"That's very generous, Joker," said Dr. Leland, suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, Doc!" he chuckled. "I'm just proud of all our hard work on this movie – mine especially. And I wanna share my passion with the world!"

"There's definitely a catch," snapped Dr. Leland, as the inmates were returned to their cells, and she was left alone with Bruce Wayne. "Although he hasn't tried to escape or anything, which is unusual. I'm not sure what his game is this time, but he can't be telling the truth. Can he?"

Bruce shrugged. "You know him better than I do, Dr. Leland," he said, mentally making a note for Batman to pay Joker a little visit later and seeing if he couldn't beat the scheme out of him.

"I'm sorry the others didn't really like your movie, Mr. J," purred Harley, cuddling him in his cell. "But you seem to be taking it really well."

"Oh, you know me, Harley girl!" chuckled Joker, glancing out the window at the film reels being loaded into vans. "I got a thick skin! Anyway, it doesn't matter what those losers think of it. That was never the point. The point was getting it out into the masses."

"Why?" asked Harley, puzzled. "Are you gonna see any of the money it makes?"

"No," replied Joker, grinning. "I'm gonna see something much better! The thousands of big smiles at that happy ending from all my adoring fans!"

"Yeah? You think they're really gonna love it, huh?" asked Harley.

"I think they're gonna have no choice!" he chuckled. "Each of those reels of film contains a small packet of Joker toxin that's gonna be punctured and released into the movie theater when the reel reaches its end. It's gonna knock 'em dead, Harley girl!" he giggled, cuddling her.

"Oh, Mr. J!" she sighed, adoringly. "You're such a naughty boy! And for what it's worth, I liked your version of the movie much better. I thought the characters were a lot more relatable, and I liked the happy ending. It's the only version I'm watching from now on."

"Well, it's nice to feel appreciated," said Joker, nodding. "And personally I agree with you. Eat your heart out, James Cameron!"

"You're king of my world, puddin'," she purred, kissing him.

"And you're my Heart of the Ocean, baby," he murmured. "I'd drop you into the water and watch you sink to the bottom anyday."

"Aw, puddin', you know just what to say to a gal!" sighed Harley. "I'll never let you go, Mr. J!"

"I'm painfully aware of that, Harl," he muttered, as her arms tightened around his neck. "Now where's an iceberg when you need one?"

**The End**


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